Shard of the Aegis
by Beatdown183
Summary: Pyra and Mythra, now separated after the events of Xenoblade Chronicles 2, have survived the world being remade many times alongside the rest of the gang. However, not even with foresight could the twin Aegis sisters have expected a new party member in the form of a certain abused little boy. Fem!harry(sometimes)xNeville, First Fic, Dumbledore Bashing,
1. chapter 1: The Detour

**Disclaimer: I do not own** _ **Harry Potter**_ **or** _ **Xenoblade Chronicles 2**_ **. All rights belong to their respective owners.**

* * *

"Pyra, I can't believe you talked me into going out for a walk in this boring little town when we could be out in London right now!"

"Well I think that this place is wonderful, Mythra. I mean, doesn't this place remind you of Fonsett village?"

"I guess. But how is that supposed to help me deal with today's stress?"

In the quiet town of Little Whinging, two beautiful figures were strolling along, taking in the calm autumn atmosphere after a stressful day at the diner that they both worked at. Pyra, a young looking short haired redhead with warm ruby eyes, and a shapely hourglass figure worked as a chef while Mythra, her twin sister with long blond hair and golden eyes, worked as a waitress. Both being fairly easy jobs for the both of them normally, but today seemed like it wanted to push their limits. Specifically, one family consisting of a walrus of a husband, a horse-like wife, and a beach-ball of a boy.

"I thought that the cool air would help clear our heads after that one family drove us both up the wall." said Pyra, her tone turning slightly sour. "Seriously, what kind of three person family eats enough food for six?"

"The kind that apparently doesn't care about their BMI's." replied Mythra, sass bleeding from her voice. "I mean the boy ate about half of the food alone! And there's also the fact that the horse called me a slut just because I have a better figure than hers!"

"That doesn't justify calling her a horse."

"Hey! I didn't actually call her that! She just reminded me of one, her neck was that long."

The duo continued their walk in silence. Eventually, they came across a road called Privet Drive, and it was here that Mythra spoke up again.

"You know, this did help calm me down. Thanks."

"I'm glad to hear that. Now, we should head home before…" Pyra never finished her sentence, for at that moment, a blood curdling scream erupted from one of the houses followed by a loud "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT SCREAMING, YOU LITTLE FREAK!" This immediately put both sisters into high alert, and gave them both a deep feeling of dread.

"What was that?" cried Pyra, searching for whichever house the horrid noises came from.

"I don't know but…" Started Mythra before she was interrupted by another loud yell of; "WHAT. HAVE. I. TOLD. YOU. ABOUT. CRYING!" "I think it came from number four!" she said, looking at the aforementioned house.

"I have a bad feeling about this." said Pyra as she darted towards the house, briefly flashing in a mote of red lights.

"Me too" said Mythra, following behind her, flashing in her own mote of pale yellow lights.

* * *

Harry was only barely hanging onto consciousness.

It had started this morning while he was making breakfast for his relatives. Dudley had decided that slamming his head into the frying pan that the bacon was sizzling in was a good idea, leading Harry to be blinded and badly burned. This in turn meant that he couldn't finish making breakfast, which in turn, meant that his relatives had been put into a very foul mood.

Later, when school got out for the two boys, Dudley and his gang cornered him behind the building. Harry tried to run, but one of the members pinned him down. The gang threw a barrage of punches, kicks, rocks, and one even slashed him in the side with a knife. After about half an hour, the group finally decided to call it quits. They walked away from Harry's battered and bruised form, laughing as they went. Eventually, Harry found enough strength to get up. It hurt a lot, but it nothing that Harry wasn't used to. Besides, it had started to darken, and dinner needed to be made,

It had gotten dark by the time Harry had made back home. When he arrived, he saw that the family car wasn't in the driveway. Harry started to Panic. He had been left alone at home plenty of times. He had also been locked out on purpose. But never had Uncle Vernon done both to him at once. He was so panicked that he didn't notice when he suddenly appeared inside the house. It wasn't until the door opened and Uncle Vernon stepped inside that Harry snapped out of his panic, but it was too late, Vernon had already seen him.

"Boy!" Vernon yelled as he roughly grabbed Harry and threw him into the living room. By then, Aunt Petunia and Dudley had walked in and shut the door behind them. As they all gathered around Harry, Vernon started to rant, saying "Boy! Do you know what your freakishness cost me?" He then punched Harry hard enough to send to send the boy careening into the wall. "You costed me my promotion!" A hit to the face. "And then you have the guts to not come home to cook our Dinner!" A kick to his already cut side. "We had to go find a decent place that wasn't packed to the brim!" Another hard punch to the gut. "And to top it all off, your freakishness caused us to get the brashest, most impolite, and sluttiest waitress in the place!" A final stomp on Harry's knee, smashing the joint and breaking bone.

At this point, harry couldn't take the pain anymore. So he did the one thing that most people would have done much sooner.

He let out a loud, blood-curdling scream.

Vernon Immediately picked him up by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall. Once Harry was pinned, Vernon roared "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT SCREAMING, YOU LITTLE FREAK!" with such ferocity that his own face started to bruise from it, spittle all but flowing from his lips. Harry's ears started to bleed from the shout, causing the already traumatized child to cry in pain. This only made Vernon even angrier; as implied by another even fiercer roar of "WHAT. HAVE. I. TOLD. YOU. ABOUT. CRYING!"

Harry nearly fell unconscious when his Uncle then dropped him onto the floor, battered, beaten, bruised, and broken. In that instance, all the young boy could think about was how he wanted someone to protect him from the pain that he was in. Someone who could make his freakishness away painlessly, and not beat it out of him like his uncle had tried. Someone who would give him comforting warmth when he was lonely.

All that Harry Potter wanted at that moment, was a loving family.

Well, ask and you shall receive, for it was at that precise moment, just before Vernon landed the final blow; that the door to the house exploded in fire and pale yellow light. Once the dust had cleared, two beautiful figures, one garbed in red, the other in white, and both accented in emerald. The one garbed in white took one long look at the scene before steeling her look and summoning an angular sword with a gold hilt and handle, a cross shaped emerald crystal, and a blade made of angry light.

Vernon Dursley took one longer look at the intruders before steeling his own gaze at the white clad woman in recognition, a gaze that hardened even more as she questioned in a loud, no-nonsense tone; "What in the Architect's name are you doing?"

* * *

 **Authors Note: Hi, This is my first fic, so criticism is very much appreciated. I hope that all you readers have a happy new year.**

 **-Beatdown**


	2. Chapter 2: The Rescue

**Disclaimer: I do not own** _ **Harry Potter**_ **or** _ **Xenoblade Chronicles 2**_ **. All rights belong to their respective**

Pyra couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Standing before her was the very family that had caused her and Mythra trouble earlier that night, except now they were beating up on a tiny child who looked no older than four. Said child was partially obscured by the man, but the injuries on his body were still clear as day. Bruises and cuts were all across his body, his left leg bent the wrong way, and there was a large red stain coming from his side.

Needless to say, Mythra's reaction was totally warranted.

The fat man turned towards the sisters, His face purple with rage as he yelled "What am **I** doing? What are YOUdoing you freaks!? You can't just barge into other people's houses while they go about their business! I was just about to rid my family of this freak of a nephew, who has plagued us for years, only for you two slutty freaks to show up! We try to live completely normal lives, and you freaks just can't leave us alone!"

Pyra became furious at the man's words. Did he dare think that all of his problems were because of such a young child? He probably created more problems by harming the poor boy!

Karma can be a bitch sometimes, but here it was in the right!

"And you think that beating a child will fix all your problems? This isn't the 1690s! You can't just harm someone like that just because they aren't what you consider normal, especially when it's your own family!" Seethed Pyra, her maternal instincts kicking in. She couldn't stand people who harmed the innocent, and these people fit well into that category.

This, however, seemed to make the man even angrier. His face puffed up, and his eyes became bloodshot. He stomped right up to the sisters, with his family following suite. He didn't realize that the two ladies, despite being shorter than him, were not intimidated by his charge. Ferociously, he screamed into their faces "THAT FREAK DESERVES EVERY BEATING HE GETS! EVER SINCE HE ARRIVED ON OUR DOORSTEP, HE HAS CAUSED NOTHING BUT TROUBLE FOR US! WE CANNOT GO A SINGLE DAY WITHOUT SOMETHING OR ANOTHER GOING WRONG! THE UNGRATEFUL BOY CAN'T CONTROL HIS FREAKISHNESS, BUT BEATING HIM DOES! I'M DOING EVERYONE A FAVOR, MAKING SURE HE APPEARS NORMAL! BUT YOU FREAKS JUST HAVE TO TRY TO STOP ME! NO MORE! I'LL JUST HAVE TO BEAT YOU TOO!" He raised his fists, ready to smash the twins' skulls in…

Only for Mythra to kick him hard in the gut.

Now, normally when you try to kick a 450 lb. man in the gut, nothing really happens. However, Mythra doesn't do normal. Being able to move her body at speeds close to the speed of light, much more force was applied to the kick. The man was sent flying through the back wall and ended up outside. His family, being behind him, was also knocked back. They landed with a hearty thump out in the lawn, each forming bruises all over. Mythra, not satisfied, turned towards Pyra and said, "I'll take care of them. You take care of the kid." She then leaped out of the hole created by the attack, leaving Pyra with the beaten child.

As Pyra watched her sister exit, a soft whimper came from the boy, immediately getting Pyra's attention. She went over to him and knelt down to his level, taking note of the extensive injuries that covered his entire form. The boy's skin was so bruised that she couldn't tell what his normal skin color was supposed to be. It was so bad that Pyra almost didn't notice the many burns and cuts that littered the young child's body. His left leg was bent in two odd places at the knee, and looked freshly broken, bone popping out. The red splotch on his side had grown over the conversation, now covering half of the over-sized shirt that the boy was wearing, and had started to drip. His messy black hair also had some crimson stains near the ears, which had dried blood stains running out of them. And finally, just above his right eye, was a lightning bolt shaped scar that looked as if it had never had a chance to heal at all.

Pyra's examination was then interrupted when the sudden sound of a light-based ether attack chimed loudly, followed by a slight quake. 'Was that Siren?' Pyra thought as she looked outside just in time to see a beam of light shoot down from above, the chime ringing again, followed by another quake. 'Mythra is not going easy on them.'

Pyra looked back at the little boy, who had regained consciousness after hearing the beams. She was shocked to see that the boy's brilliant emerald eyes had opened, considering how swollen they were. As Pyra looked at him with wonder, the boy began to panic, trying very hard to move away. When she saw this, her heart broke. The child before her was not only physically broken, but emotionally scarred. 'Children shouldn't be that way.' Pyra thought, tears coming to her eyes.

She reached out to the child and picked him up, placing him on her lap carefully in order to not aggravate any wounds. The boy weakly struggled to get free, but couldn't. Pyra then started to gently rub his back. The boy relaxed a little, and rested his head on her chest.

"It's okay." Pyra whispered to the boy, hoping it would calm him down further. "I won't hurt you."

The boy looked up at her eyes, confusion filling them as he asked "Why?"

Pyra looked at the boy, sadness apparent in her eyes for a good moment before saying "I would never hurt someone like you."

The boy looked very confused after hearing her say that, as if this was the first time he had been granted mercy from anyone.

"B-but I'm a freak. I-I'm supposed to be hurt, like all freaks should, especially when I do the freaky stuff." he stated, looking down, tears starting to form in his eyes.

Pyra was shocked at the boy's response. How could someone like him think so negatively about himself? She couldn't see anything off about him; so why would he, or anyone else for that matter, think otherwise?

She needed to fix this, before something worse happened to the boy.

The two of them sat there silently while the occasional chime sounded from outside, becoming less and less frequent. Pyra didn't notice. She was too busy thinking about what needed to be done to help the broken child. Right now, his injuries needed to be tended to, specifically his still bleeding set the boy down on the floor, much to the boy's dismay, and lifted his shirt up.

What she saw nearly caused her to vomit.

The boy's thin body was littered with unhealed scars, burns, bruises, and other injuries far worse than any other part of his body, most of them looked deliberately made. It took all of Pyra's willpower to look away from the majority of the boy's injuries and **focus** on the cut in his side that was still bleeding. It needed to be healed immediately, but neither she nor her sister were good healers. There was only so much they could do.

"Can you hold up your shirt, little one?" asked Pyra, an idea forming in her head. It wouldn't stop the bleeding, but it would help. The boy did as asked and weakly held the garment just high enough to see the bleeding gash. Pyra then reached behind her back and grasped one of the tails of her outfit before swiftly ripping it off. She then began to wrap the strip of fabric around the boy's middle, covering the wound as best as she could. The boy winced at the contact, but stayed quiet and rigid.

Once Pyra was finished, she took the boy into her lap again and rubbed the boy's back gently as to not agitate his injuries.

* * *

It was this scene that Mythra saw when she came into the room, exhausted from venting her rage onto the awful family outside. The fat man specifically had been much more resilient to her attacks, but was ultimately downed as well. None of them were killed, but the physical scars alone would not fade anytime soon, and the ether based ones would last forever.

When she saw Pyra comforting the hurt boy, her heart lurched in her chest. The boy, despite being comforted by the most caring blade in existence, was looking fearful and confused, as if expecting to be hurt again.

She turned towards her sister, who's eyes were filled with a familiar pain, the one that the both of them got when seeing others suffer.

In that moment, Mythra knew what had to be done. For this broken child's sake.

"He can't stay here." Mythra said, catching the attention of the two on the floor. They turned to look at her, only for the boy to yelp in fright and cling onto Pyra's torso. Mythra was confused at the boy's action, before realizing that she still had her sword in her hand. She quickly vanished it, internally berating herself for scaring the poor boy, before going over to kneel by the two. She heard Pyra whispering into his ear, trying to calm the boy down.

Eventually, Pyra's words appeared to reach the boy, who slowly turned to face Mythra. He still had a look of fear in his eyes, but otherwise stayed put. The two stared at each other for a few moments before Mythra spoke up.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." She said, looking down at the floor. "I just... I forgot to put my sword away. I never meant to scare you."

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Mythra thought that The boy hadn't heard her until he weakly said "It's okay."

Mythra looked up, making eye contact once again with the boy, whose eyes now held a fraction of wonder as he looked at her. Mythra cracked a tiny smile and hugged him, whispering "Thank you" into his ear.

When she broke the hug, she turned to her sister, putting on a serious face. "Come on, let's go. We need to take him out of here, Preferably to a healer." she said as she stood up, pulling Pyra up with her. Pyra nodded, subconsciously making sure the boy wasn't uncomfortable in her arms after the abrupt shift in position.

* * *

When the group got outside, night had fallen, and the only light came from the street lamps along the road. Mythra, seeing how late it had become, groaned.

"Man, Nia is going to be really mad at us."

Pyra nodded in agreement. The evening stroll they had been on would have already put Nia on edge, let alone staying out this late. She was about to add her two cents when the boy in her arms made a confused noise, catching the two sisters' attention.

"Um, Miss white, Who is Nia?"

The two sisters froze at this question, then turned to look at each other. Not in fear of the question itself, but the fact that neither had introduced themselves tho the boy, nor had they asked the boy's name.

Pyra was snapped back into reality when she felt the boy in her hands shift a little, moving one hand over his chest, and looking unnerved.

"Oh! Um, Nia is a good friend of ours who lives with us, and is also the best healer we know." She said, lifting the boy back into a comfortable position to hold. "By the way, We never introduced ourselves. My name is Pyra."

"And my name is Mythra." Said her sister after regaining her senses as well. "What's your name little one?"

The boy stilled for a moment in her arms, as if thinking about the question before saying quietly "H-Harry. Harry Potter."

That caused the minds of the two sisters to grind to a halt. Harry Potter, the proclaimed savior of the British wizarding world, the only person to survive the killing curse, was this little boy? Pyra then remembered the scar on the boy's forehead, then paled. Mythra, after looking at the scar as well, also donned the same look of realization.

Their musing was interrupted when the boy, now identified as Harry, groaned in pain, then gave a very hoarse cough, followed by a small amount of blood coming from his mouth.

"We need to get him to Nia. Now!" Mythra exclaimed, grabbing hold of Pyra, and orienting the boy so that he was between the two ladies' bodies. Her core crystal and ether lines started glowing as she built up energy. "Hang on!" She said just before the three of them shot off in a mote of light, quickly vanishing in the distance. A trail of light shimmering faintly before fading away.

* * *

Mere moments later, a loud crack broke the silence once again, carrying with it an old man in garish robes and a long silver beard. He walked over to the house labeled number 4, Wondering about what could have happened inside the house that made the instruments in his office start acting up. He knew about what went on daily for one of the occupants, but never intervened. It would only arouse suspicion if he came here more often.

Besides, he needed the young one to not know anything about magic just yet. It would ruin all of his plans if he did. He never liked putting the boy in harm's way, but it was for the greater good.

So why was tonight so different? What exactly had happened?

The man's confusion turned to fear when he saw that the building he sought had no door. He quickly ran into the house, not ready to see exactly what became of the only family by blood of the Boy-Who-Lived.

* * *

 **Author's note: Wow! I didn't expect this to catch on so quickly like this. Thanks to all of you who added this story to your favorites. It helped me get through my writer's block for this chapter. Sorry it took so long. Writer's block is a bitch. Not only that, but my mom decided that the family now needs to reorganize our entire house. I ended up writing most of this at school. Sorry if this chapter seems rushed. Emotional bits (Outside of anger) are hard to write. So please, comment on anything that I could do better. It truly helps.**

 **-Beatdown**


	3. Chapter 3: The Perspectives

**I do not own** _ **Harry Potter**_ **or** _ **Xenoblade Chronicles 2**_ **. All rights go to their respective owners.**

* * *

In between the Islands of Auskerry and Stronsay, a small boat was floating amongst the sea, it's stone grey hull gleaming in the moonlight. The crane that was affixed to the ship's hull was whirring as it pulled up a small platform with a moderately sized figure in a bulky suit and a small metal crate on it from the depths below. As the crane lowered the platform onto the deck, the figure reached up and removed the helmet from the suit, revealing the face of a middle-aged man capped with messy chocolate brown hair. After a long breath of air, the man hopped off the platform to start unhitching the crate from it, all the while grumbling to himself.

"Man, I really need to buy myself a new depth probe." The man said as he pulled the hook off the crate. "The ping was off by 150 meters to the east. That's not gonna fly!

Once the crate was completely unhitched, the man reached for a crowbar leaning on the crane. With a mighty swing, the man jammed the crowbar into the crate's door, pulling with all his might. Eventually, the door ripped off the crate entirely, causing the man to lose balance. Once he recovered, he glanced into the crate. Inside was a small pile of gold coins and a large rust colored lobster sitting on top.

"Huh, I didn't expect that." said the man as he walked over and picked up the crustation. "You been living in this thing big guy?"

The Lobster wiggled in response.

"Well, at least you'll make a good dinner." and with that, the man took the lobster and put it in a cooler behind the cabin. He then went back to the crate and picked up one of the cold coins, recognizing the coat of arms on its face.

"An Ardanian coin! Haven't seen one of these in a while."

Putting the coin into a container on his suit, the man observed the other ones in the stack, noting that there were a few from each of the main countries of the former Alrest. As he was putting them in his money pouch, he heard a loud splash from the port side of the boat. He paused to look, just in time to see a huge whale leap out of the water in a beautiful ark, before crashing back into the ocean.

After waiting a few moments to see if the whale would pop up again, the man turned to finish stashing the small pile of coins, muttering to himself, "Seems like it's that time again."

Once the pile had been stashed, the man got up and went into the cabin of the ship, a reminiscing look in his eye as he sat in the captain's chair and looked out over the horizon to the island of Auskerry, where his home was.

"I wonder how the world is changing this time"

The man closed his eyes as he remembered the events that had transpired over the course of his life, starting with fishing up that King Crustip all those years ago.

After some time, the man reopened his eyes and got up, sparring one last glance out the window, noting a single yellow-ish comet streaking slowly across the sky.

"Well, it's about time I get back to work."

But before he could turn away from the view, the comet shot towards the island, landing on the side farthest from his location with a brilliant flash. The man jumped at the sudden break in the peace, falling on his rear.

"Was that Mythra?" he questioned, still recovering from the fall. As he got up, he checked the clock on the wall of the cabin, which read just after midnight. "Why are she and Pyra so late? They should have gotten home hours ago! And why didn't they apparate back?"

The man immediately knew that something was wrong, as those two were normally very punctual about when they got home. Abandoning the thought of going back to work, the man got back into the seat, revved up the engine, and started heading back home. As he traveled, one thought came to mind.

'What is going on right now?'

* * *

"WHAT ON EARTH COULD BE TAKING THOSE TWO SO LONG?"

Inside the sole house on the island of Auskerry, a young woman with long feline ears, garbed in an elegant red and white robe-leotard dress, and looking no older than twenty, was pacing around a large living room with many very expensive pieces of furniture and a large fireplace, the fire within creating an eerie, yet calming glow across the room. Just outside the woman's pacing circle sat a large white tiger garbed in silvery armor, a neutral look across his face as he watched the lady go around in circles angrily.

"My Lady, please, calm down. I'm sure that Pyra and Mythra have an adequate reason for being so late." Said the tiger, hoping to calm his Mistress.

"Augh, I know that Dromarch. I just can't help but worry about what those two are up to. I mean, the last time this happened, we had to deal with Dumbledore. And you remember how much of a pain in the arse THAT was." replied the lady, her scowl deepening at the memory of working with the young wizard as Perenelle.

"Yes my Lady, I do. But you should not let that incident cloud your judgement. Besides, the most likely scenario is that they went on a stroll to clear their minds, and simply lost track of time."

"That only makes me worry about why they would need to do so!"

Dromarch let out a long sigh as the lady continued her circling. He should have known that trying to calm his mistress down would be a fruitless effort. She was too worked up. Hopefully the duo in question would arrive soon, else they worsen his Lady's wrath.

Not a moment later, ground trembled ever so slightly, and both occupants of the room paused to look at each other before rushing to the entrance hall. Just before the lady could reach the door, it slammed open, revealing a slightly tired looking Mythra.

"Nia, I know what you are going to say, but now is not the time!"

Nia stopped in her tracks, slightly startled by Mythra's outburst. She quickly regained her composure, ready to tear Mythra a new one, but was taken aback when she saw Pyra behind her, covered in blood, and holding a clearly heavily injured child in her arms. Nia looked at the boy, then Pyra, then Mythra. The looks in the two Aegis sisters' eyes told her all that she needed to know.

"Get him inside!" said Nia after a pregnant pause, "But you are going to have to tell me exactly what happened once we get him all healed up!"

The two Aegis sisters nodded, and the three of them rushed into the house, with Dromarch closing the door behind them before following.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. The only excuse I have is my own laziness towards life during these last few months.**

 **Please, if you have any, your criticism is much appreciated.**

 **Thanks for waiting, and I hope to update this story again within 30 days**

 **-Beatdown**


	4. Chapter 4: The Rebirth

**I do not own** _ **Harry Potter**_ **or** _ **Xenoblade Chronicles 2**_ **. All rights go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Tension was high as Nia quickly led the group back into the living room. It was quite clear that the Kitsune blade was absolutely pissed at the two sisters, but everyone knew that the resulting fight would only damage the child in Pyra's arms even further, so they kept quiet. The moment they entered the room, Nia waved her arms in a few quick flicks, moving all the furniture to clear the space, and conjuring a simple medical bed in the middle.

"Lay him down on this." ordered Nia as she moved to place herself behind the bed. Pyra obliged, to the boy's dismay. Pyra, instantly seeing the boy's discomfort, gently cupped his face so that he could see her.

"It's going to be ok." said Pyra in a hushed tone." Nia here…" she paused, motioning towards the blade before continuing "...is going to get you all patched up. You're in good hands."

This seemed to console the small child as he looked at Nia with an exhausted look in his eye.

"So, Miss Nia… is a pretty kitty lady?"

A large blush appeared on Nia's face as she was taken aback at his statement, but she quickly recovered with a giggle, and replied "Yes little one, I am. Now, close your eyes. I'll take care of you from here, so rest up."

The little boy gave a tiny smile, before doing as he was told and falling asleep almost instantly. Nia then took a deep breath, raised her arms to the boy's level, and began to concentrate. Her core crystal and ether lines started glowing brightly as blue balls of energy formed around her hands. Soon, a similar glow surrounded the boy, making it seem like he was underwater. Gradually, the cuts, burns and bruises faded away, leaving behind pale-ish skin, and his broken leg straightened and mended itself quietly.

As Nia finished healing the boy's surface injuries and starting on the internal ones, she began to feel a slight disturbance in the boy's magic, which became more noticeable as she worked. It felt quite strong at first, but for each injury she healed, his magic would recede a tiny bit. This was worrying Nia, as her power had never caused this sort of reaction in anyone, magical or not.

The tiny fluctuations continued to occur as Nia pressed on, starting to hinder her as the jolts were beginning to disturb the flow of ether into the boy. At this point, Pyra and Mythra could feel the disturbances themselves; and Dromarch, while unable to feel the disturbances, could tell from the look on Nia's face that something wasn't going smoothly. All the while, the boy stayed unconscious, but a pained look had appeared on his face.

Suddenly, all the blades felt a huge drop in the magic, nearly causing them to fall to the ground. Nia managed to keep her resolve, but her face quickly turned to panic as she realized what was happening.

"Oh no! His magical core is collapsing!"

She immediately focused all of her power to his core in an attempt to stop the collapse, but all her **fortitude** only slowed down the process. Meanwhile, the other blades donned faces of panic of their own, before rushing to Nia's side.

"Magical core collapse! Are you serious?" cried Mythra as she reached out with her own magic to confirm what she had heard.

"Yes! I am!" cried Nia, beads of sweat forming on her brow.

"But, why would his core be collapsing?" cried Pyra, doing the same as her sister.

"I think..." Nia started before feeling another drop in the boy's magic. Focusing her power to catch it once again, she continued "...I think it's because his magic was always working. Keeping him alive and mending his injuries constantly. Now that his injuries are healed properly, his magic can finally have a break. It is essentially collapsing from exhaustion!"

Pyra and Mythra looked at each other before looking at the boy, a look of grief adorning their faces. Harry Potter, the only person to survive the killing curse, was dying of his own magic. Pyra looked towards her hands as they rested near the boy's chest. Then, an idea came to her as she realized that her magic was still probing the boy's.

"Nia, I know what we can do!" she said, a look of determination overtaking her features. The other blades turned to her, their eyes begging for her answer. Pyra turned towards her sister and asked "Mythra, your magic is still probing his, right?" Mythra nodded slowly, not seeing what her sister's plan was. Pyra then turned to Nia, who was just as confused. "Then Mythra and I should use our power to reverse the collapse, while you and Dromarch finish healing his physical wounds."

It only took a moment for Pyra's words to click within the minds of the other blades, and when it did, their panic was replaced with the same determination that Pyra felt.

They all got into position around the boy, the healers and the sisters standing opposite of each other respectively, taking extra care to not sever the magical links that they had created. Pyra and Mythra then started pushing their magic into the boy, making a net to catch his magical core. As they did this, Dromarch noticed that the magic of the sisters formed a familiar green glow just as it entered the boy's body. Once the 'net' was fully formed, the sisters turned to Nia and said "We're ready"

Nia nodded and closed her eyes to focus, then abruptly said "Brace yourselves!"

The sisters had barely enough time before they felt the whole of the boy's magical core slam into their magic net, nearly tearing right through it. It felt like the whole earth had been thrust upon them at the speed of light, threatening to crush them, The boy's face morphing into an agonizing, silent yell as this happened. Thankfully, they held the boy's magic back from the brink, and started giving more power to hold it together. Slowly, the core absorbed the power that was being fed to it, and started to grow back, the boy's face relaxing a little as it did so.

As Pyra and Mythra continued to give their power to the boy, Nia and Dromarch were finishing healing his wounds. Eventually, Nia came upon the last wound, the one that made the boy famous across the wizarding world, the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. As her magic flowed over it, she noticed that something was in it, and the magic from the sisters was trying to push it out, causing great pain to the boy. Nia grew concerned at this, for she had seen nothing like it before. It was as if the scar was actually a magic pimple, containing something horridly foreign within, ready to be popped. Nia had a bad feeling about what was in it, and knew that it needed to be removed, else it hinder all of their efforts. So, she focused her magic a tiny bit more on the scar.

And that was when all hell broke loose.

The scar immediately burst, causing the boy to suddenly arch his back and let out a banshee-like scream. A black ooze started pouring from the wound as well, and Nia could have sworn that it was screaming as well. This didn't last long though, as a black-ish ghost thing sprung out of the goo before quickly vanishing, with the boy calming down with it's departure. All the blades saw this and recognized a dark magic they hadn't seen in a hundred years.

They had destroyed a horcrux hidden within the boy.

But this shock ended abruptly when the boy's magic core began to suck hard on the magic in the air, severing the connections with the healers, and creating a bright green glow around the boy. The sisters nearly collapsed from the feeling of having their deepest power being drawn into the boy, and didn't notice that the black ooze had been absorbed as well. The glow kept growing and growing until it had completely engulfed the boy with it's brightness. Then suddenly, the light twisted and changed into a black hole, giving a moment of quiet for all.

Then it exploded in a flash of bright light, and everyone's vision went black.

* * *

Mythra groaned as she regained consciousness, her body throbbing in pain. She hadn't felt this bad since the last time the world ended over sixteen million years ago. As she came to her senses, she felt something off about herself. It took a little inward searching, but when she found out what was wrong, all the haziness cleared away.

Her deepest magic, the part of her that contained her and Pyra's original form, was gone.

Mythra bolted upright into a seated position, clutching her core crystal with both hands. It still felt smooth and whole physically, but she could no longer feel the energy of the true aegis blade within it. In her panicked state, she looked around the room, seeing that everyone had been flung into the piles of furniture around the room. The medical bed in the center, however, seemed completely fine. As she looked at the bed, she remembered what had happened, a new panic seized her.

"Harry!" she cried, stumbling upright and rushing to the bedside. But what she saw on the mattress halted all of her thoughts. She barely noticed her sister getting up in almost the exact same way she had, nor her rushing towards the bed as well. When she did eventually look at her sister, Pyra did the same. As they looked into each other's eyes, one thought was shared between them.

'How?'

Eventually, they heard the other two blades in the room wake up as well, Nia swearing as she did so. But it barely registered in the minds of the sisters, who had looked back down onto the bed. Nia started fussing up a storm as she got up to the bed with Dromarch's help, ready to tear into the sisters once again, but became quiet as she too was stunned by what she saw.

Laying on the bed, donning the same outfit from many millennia ago, was not the boy who lived, but the form of Pneuma, or at least a childlike version of her. The emerald core crystal on her chest was glowing brilliantly, even as it's owner slept so calmly.

The other blades in the room watched silently as the tiny form rolled onto her side, unhindered by the child sized armor on her tiny body. As she quietly snoozed, Mythra felt something stir within her. Before she knew it, she had picked up the sleeping child, and started to cradle her, rocking the child ever so carefully. Mythra looked up at the other blades, seeing Pyra covering her mouth with her hands, and Dromarch and Nia's mouths gaping wide open. Nia's face then turned into something between genuine shock and a shit-eating grin before saying half sarcastically "Wow. Mythra is the one with heavier maternal instincts. Who knew."

Mythra broke out into a heavy blush as she fully realized what she was doing and what Nia was implying. As she was stammering in embarrassment, the child let out a cute yawn, causing Pyra and Nia to coo at the sight. Dromarch broke out of his stupor as well, shaking his head before looking to Mythra once again. After clearing his throat he said "You should put the child to bed, she should be more comfortable that way. Once you are done, you and Pyra can finally tell us just what happened before you got home."

Mythra nodded slowly, then began to make her way to the house's guest bedroom. As she exited, she heard Nia mumble something before the sounds of furniture being moved filled her ears. The child started whimpering in Mythra's arms, most likely from the noise, so Mythra began rubbing her back. She continued to do so until she found the room she was looking for.

The guest bedroom was a fairly simple room, one they used whenever any of their friends came to visit. Ironically, the style of the room almost exactly matched the designs of the armor donned by the tiny child in her arms. The full body mirror, nightstand, lamp, dresser, and queen sized bed all had silver metal frames with green glass accents. The moon was shining through the window, bathing the room in a soft glow that made Mythra a little drowsy herself.

Ignoring the tiredness, Mythra walked over to the bed and started to tuck the child in. As she did so, she observed the child who not long ago had been Harry Potter. The young child had started turning in her sleep as she lay in the bed, a peaceful look on her face. One hand had gotten ahold of the long green ponytail she now had, and was now cuddling it like a bear. The scene made Mythra tear up, and as she finished putting the comforter on the child, she gave her a small peck on the cheek and said "Goodnight Harry." as she left the room, not seeing the child smile just a smidge.

* * *

As Mythra returned to the main room, she found Nia sitting her chair opposite the entrance to the room, Dromarch at her side. Pyra was sitting on a love-seat next to her, and motioned for her to sit next to her. Once she was seated, Nia took a deep breath and glared at the sisters.

"You caused quite the commotion, not getting home until very late, with an INJURED CHILD in your arms."

The sisters looked down at the floor, guilt apparent in their body language. But just as Pyra was about to say something, Nia raised her hand, stopping her, as she calmly said "Look, I'm too bloody tired to be angry at you, so why don't you just tell me what the hell happened. I'm fairly certain you have your reasons for doing whatever you did, I just need to know. Like how you ended up with HARRY POTTER of all people, let alone in that state he was in. So...please, tell."

However, the story would not be told just yet, for at that moment, the blades all heard a large bang come from the entrance, followed by heavy footsteps and loud clunking. Soon, their driver and husband, Rex stumbled into the room, panting heavily. Once he recovered, he looked at the blades and noticed how tired everyone looked.

"What in the architect's name happened to you guys?"

The blades all looked at each other for a moment before looking back to Rex.

"It's a long story." said Pyra, conjuring a seat for the man. "Have a seat, this might take a while."

Once Rex had taken his seat, the two sisters finally began the painful ordeal of describing the events of what happened that night, a story that brought out a feeling that all were too familiar with.

True sadness.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hi! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews that you have been sending me. They truly helped me wright this chapter, and for that I am grateful.**

 **Please, keep sending reviews. your ideas and critiques are highly valued.**

 **See you hopefully next month!**

 **-Beatdown**


	5. Chapter 5: The Manipulator's Peril

**I do not own** _ **Harry Potter**_ **or** _ **Xenoblade Chronicles 2**_ **. All rights go to their respective owners.**

* * *

In the headmaster's office of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was having an internal crisis.

Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, had gone missing. Not only that, but his family, the Dursleys were now locked up in St. Mungos being treated for obscure magical injuries.

This left Dumbledore without his most important pawn, and even if the young Potter was found, there was no way to insure his proper molding in accordance with his grand plans without the Dursleys.

He looked around the room at all the baubles and trinkets amongst the shelves, once ticking and chiming, now gone still. The only one that was still active was the one that showed that the boy was still alive. However, it now glowed a brilliant emerald, rather than the dim gold it once was. As he stared at the trinket, the memories of what had transpired in the past two days replayed in his old head.

* * *

 _He had arrived at number four Privet drive, wand in hand, to check up on the Dursley residence as soon as his instruments started acting up, only to see nothing wrong initially with the area. No Muggles were running about, so he assumed that it was only a small problem with the Dursley's attitude towards the young Potter. A simple fix, he mused._

 _He only knew how wrong he was once he saw the front door to the house in question in shambles._

 _Immediately, he ran inside, panic now racing through his bones. If any harm had come to the Dursleys, then surely the young Potter was either dead, or had been taken. Either way, his plans would be in jeopardy._

 _As he looked around the entrance hall, he noted the blood stains splattered on the wall across from the stairs, some looking quite fresh. A quick identification spell told him it was from the young Potter, further adding to his panic. He then noted the huge hole in the back wall, seemingly large enough to drive a muggle car through. But it was what he saw beyond the hole that scared him the most._

 _The backyard was riddled in black craters, each giving off a powerful magical aura. And in the largest three were the Dursleys, sprawled out in unhealthy ways. He rushed over to the closest Dursley, which happened to be Vernon, to see the full extent of his injuries._

 _What he saw would haunt him for the rest of his days._

 _Vernon's body was littered with gashes, burns, and bruises; making him look like one of Voldemort's tourture victims from the previous wizarding war. The only sign that the man was still alive was the occasional raspy breath._

 _Dumbledore was paralized at the sight, trying to imagine the horrid scene that had occured that night. As he looked over the man's injuries once more, his shock gave way to slight curiosity when he looked at the wounds more closely._

 _All of Vernon's injuries had seemingly been cauterized with pure magic, to the point that Dumbledore could feel the slight traces that remained within them._

 _Dumbledore's face hardened, knowing that he needed to act now in order to keep the Dursleys alive, especially if all of them shared the same injuries that Vernon had. He raised his wand and summoned his patronus, instructing it to go to the Minister of Magic. He needed healers and aurors immediately, and through the minister was the fastest way to do so. Once he had finished, the silvery phoenix took off, and after seeing it disappear from his sight, he started erecting muggle repelling wards. As he did so, he noticed that the blood wards around the house were completely untouched. This was worrying, as only those with enormous power could outright ignore wards of that nature. Voldomort had been close, but he was nowhere near this level of powerful._

 _The moment he had finished putting up fresh muggle repelling wards around the property, many cracks filled the air as the minister arrived, along with ten other people, four with auror badges, the other six in mediwitch uniforms. Upon seeing the remains of the yard, the Minister and Aurors bombarded him with questions as the Medi Witches assessed the Dursleys. Who were these muggles? Did Dumbledore see the assailants? Why was Dumbledore at the scene in the first place?_

 _Fudge was especially relentless with his questions, knowing what the aurors didn't; that Potter resided there, and that this was more than just a random muggle attack. This barrage of questioning worked in Dumbledore's favor a little bit, for his interrogators gave him nary a chance to actually answer any questions. Eventually, the Medi Witches inadvertently came to his rescue when they swiftly left, taking the Dursleys with them. The brief pause that came from their departure allowed Dumbledore to finally put in his two cents._

" _Cornelius, Aurors, I know you are confused, but flooding me with questions at the rate you are going will only make my old mind hurt. We have procedures for these exact situations for a reason," he stated, his normal grandfatherly tone laced with annoyance . It had the desired effect, as the remaining wizards and witches looked towards their feet in shame, the Aurors grumbling and Cornelius fidgeting with his fingers._

 _Turning to the Aurors, Dumbledore said in a more stern, yet patient tone " Aurors, I will be leaving the investigations to you. I will be heading back to Hogwarts to write my witness report."_

 _Upon hearing this, the head Auror hardened his gaze. Before he could get any words in, Albus continued, "If I were to head straight to your department, it would cause a larger scene than necessary, and I would be questioned even more heavily there." Before the Aurors' attention was lost in shame once more, Albus kept going. "However, if my report hasn't been received by the end of the hour, you have my permission to storm my office to get it."_

 _The Aurors looked shocked when they heard the last bit, but quickly recovered, the head Auror leading the others to start investigating the destroyed yard and house. Albus then turned towards Fudge, who stood straight upon locking eyes with the headmaster._

" _I know we have much to discuss, but here and now isn't the time." The two of them glanced at the Aurors for a moment, before Fudge turned to Dumbledore once more, slight agitation in his eye._

" _And when do you suppose you can meet with me? Tomorrow? Next week?"_

" _Three hours."_

 _Fudge froze mid rant and stared at the old headmaster. Dumbledore had never given that little time for any meeting, especially for something as important as this. Still, Fudge knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth._

" _My office, or yours?"_

" _Mine."_

 _Fudge, satisfied with Dumbledore's answer, turned to leave. Before he did, he took one last glance at the old headmaster and said "I hope you keep your word, because I would rather not turn up and have you not there." And with that, he apperated away, a sharp crack signaling his departure._

" _As do I" said Dumbledore before departing in the same manner._

* * *

Dumbledore felt very fortunate to have procured the report for the Aurors that made his involvement seem purely coincidental, especially at a moment's notice. But seeing as he hadn't been taken in for further questioning, he must have done well enough.

It was worrying however, even if beneficial, that they didn't find the wards other than the ones that he had put up in preparation for their arrival. The blood wards must have fallen during the aurors' bombardment of questions. And while the absence of those wards helped to keep him away from suspicion, it meant that Potter's captors must have done something to change the boy's magical signature.

Dumbledore doubted that whoever took the boy could have altered his concept of "home" during their attack, and the boy was nowhere near coming of age. But because the wards were powered by the boy's magic specifically, changing his magical signature would have been the only other way to bring them down.

That fact worried Dumbledore the most, as it meant that this entity, whatever it's nature, would need to be disposed of for the greater good. The ability to change one's fundamental nature was too powerful of an ability to simply let it keep existing. But facing something so powerful was a daunting task enough, let alone something he knew almost nothing about.

This made his meeting with the minister an absolute nightmare. As one of the few people to know about the Potter boy's placement with the Dursleys, he was quite furious and fearful at the recent turn of events. After all, Dumbledore had told him that the protective wards were unbreachable. Seeing that not only were the wards bypassed, but completely ignored, made the minister almost hysterical. After hours of heavy debate, Dumbledore barely managed to convince the minister to not spread the word about the boy's kidnapping, lest they throw the entire wizarding world into chaos. In exchange, however, Dumbledore had to swear by magical oath to refrain from intervening with the ministry's investigation, and to let the minister run all damage control. Dumbledore wasn't even allowed to speak with the Dursleys, which further hindered his plans.

It was only after the minister had left that Dumbledore could finally slow down and realize just how irreparable his plans were. With the Potter boy gone, the Dursleys hospitalized, and a new variable to consider, the headmaster's plans to end the threat of Voldemort once and for all, and to lead the wizarding world into a new golden era, were well and truly destroyed. The only thing keeping the dream alive was the fact that the Potter boy was still alive, but that could only ease the headmaster's nerves so much.

He spent the next two days in a frenzied state, struggling to accept this new reality.

* * *

A loud pounding on Dumbledore's office door snapped him out of his memories. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs before looking at his clock, noting that it was still lunchtime. The banging on the door resumed, harder this time, reminding Dumbledore of his company. He called out to the door, inviting the person in with a calm tone, even as he still wanted to sort his own thoughts for a little bit longer.

The door opened loudly, revealing Minerva McGonagall, fury radiating off her highly composed stance. In her left hand appeared to be a copy of The Daily Prophet.

"Albus Dumbledore!" she barked sternly, marching swiftly to the headmaster's desk. "Would you kindly explain why the Dursleys are currently hospitalized in St Mungo's Janus Thickey ward?!" She slammed the copy of the Prophet onto the desk. On the front page, taking up nearly a quarter of the page, were the words _"Muggle family assaulted by unknown powerful magical; Ministry in panic!"_ Below this was an image of the Vernon Dursley lying in a hospital bed, loosely surrounded by healers, and wrapped head to toe in bandages. A quick read explained how they were found near dead, and would be kept there for an indeterminable amount of time.

Dumbledore looked up at McGonagall, who glared at him with the fury of a thousand suns, and sighed. He expected her to have a reaction such as this, and knew she wouldn't leave until he fessed up. So he obliged, getting straight to the meat of the matter.

Once Dumbledore finished recounting the events of two days prior, he expected to be ripped apart by his deputy headmistress. He was pleasantly surprised when instead, McGonagall sat in deep thought, eyes closed, and chin resting on her knuckles. After a long pause, she looked up, having a much calmer demeanor, but still keeping her stern posture.

"Minerva I…"

"I'm not angry at you for what happened at the Dursleys' place." McGonagall said in a calm tone, stopping the headmaster in his tracks. Dumbledore stared at her, confusion deep in his eyes. Seeing that she had the headmaster's attention, she continued.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still terribly upset about this. After all, I've been insisting for sometime now about moving Harry in with better caretakers. But you have been very insistent on leaving him with _those people_." she said, venom lacing her words. "Now Harry is missing, with Merlin knows what happening to him."

She turned to look at the instrument indicating Harry's health, a look of recognition briefly flashing across her face. Dumbledore noted her reaction, but just as he was about to question her, the clock in his office chimed, signaling the end of the lunchtime hour. At the sound of the bell, McGonagall got up out of her seat, saying "Well. I expect you will keep me informed about this. It wounds me that you didn't tell me sooner about the attack, but if Harry is indeed still alive, I pray he can be found with haste." With that, she turned and made way to the exit.

"Minerva..." Dumbledore called out, stopping Mcgonagall just as she opened the door. As she turned towards him once more, he continued. "What did you see when you looked at the trinket on my shelf?"

McGonagall's face turned down, her eyes closed as she said "I was just reminded of an old friend, that's all." and with that, she exited the room, closing the door with a loud clack, and leaving the old headmaster to his own thoughts once more.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I'm so sorry I took so long to write this chapter. I just didn't have as much incentive to write as much due to the Christmas break craze. But now I have a new system for writing these chapters, so expect a new chapter in at most 2 months.**

 **Thank you all for waiting so patiently.**

 **-Beatdown**


	6. Chapter 6: The Awakening

**I do not own** _ **Harry Potter**_ **or** _ **Xenoblade Chronicles 2**_ **. All rights go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Rex grumbled to himself as he fiddled around with the delicate parts of the depth probe, his strong hands working with surprising dexterity as he tinkered with the small device. But his face betrayed the amount of focus his hands gave to the task; for as they fell into a rhythm showing eons of exercise with the troublesome device, his expression was distant, deep in thought as he mulled over what been happening over the past few days.

He still had a hard time comprehending the story that Pyra and Mythra had told him and Nia about what had happened in England two nights ago. He almost didn't believe them at first, but the dour expressions on their faces as they conveyed what had happened told him that it was all too true. When the tale was finished, he had a mixed bag of feelings about the whole ordeal.

On the one hand, he was a little upset about how drastic of measures they had taken during the encounter. Using their ether abilities in most situations was not only overkill, but extremely risky. Unlike the modern form of magic, ether was very tangible and tended to linger, and was not only more violent because of it, but also jeopardised the secrecy of their identities (a fact he had reminded the sisters of).

On the other hand, would he have done anything different? Could he? He only had the story to go off of, but even without the benefit of hindsight, he could see himself going in to play hero himself, damn their non-interference code, just to save an innocent child from their abusive family.

A child who was now sleeping in their guest bedroom. A child who looked like a tiny version of the true Aegis blade.

The sound of the casing of the probe snapping together brought Rex's attention back to the present, and his repairs on the device, now complete. With a sigh, he put the device down on the table and stood up, stretching as he did so. Looking at the clock, he noted it took him only an hour to complete the repairs this time, leaving him with another hour until his wives got home. Still a lot of time to get things done.

However, he had already finished all of his household tasks for today, along with his combat practice, and now his maintenance projects for his salvaging equipment. Normally, these things would have bought him enough time to arrange his thoughts, but even two days of these activities had not deterred his mind from the uncertainty that hung in the house. Inevitably, his thought would go back to the child.

Leaving the work desk, Rex made his way to the guest bedroom to check on the child, something he would do periodically throughout the day. Thus far, the child had only shifted positions as they slept, but the fact they were out for so long was starting to worry all of the residents of the place, except for Nia.

She spent nearly all of her time at home watching the child's vitals, not only making sure that they were stable, but also trying to understand the extent of the child's transformation. From what she could tell, the child had undergone a sort of magical metamorphosis, near perfectly changing their body and magic. She was sure there was some echo of the child's former self, but it was too early to tell.

However, the child's mental state was a complete mystery, not only because they were asleep, but because this sort of transformation was something the family had never seen before, even in all the millennia they had lived.

It also didn't help that no-one in their odd little family had any sort of parenting experience. They had all been leaders; mentors; and even close friends, but never had they forged any sort of parental bonds. Sure they had the literal wisdom of a thousand lifetimes, but all the preparation in the world couldn't prepare them for proper parenthood. Still, Pyra and Mythra had all but vowed to magic itself to take care of the child, and he would be a fool to not do his best to help them in all ways possible.

As Rex approached his destination, he saw that Dromarch was just outside the room, peeking into it through the slightly opened door. At the sound of Rex's arrival, he turned his head towards the man and said "I assume you have completed your project once more?" to which Rex nodded swiftly.

"Well, it would seem that leaves us with one last charge." said Dromarch as he looked back into the room, Rex joining in with him. The child had shifted in her sleep once again, but otherwise it seemed that nothing had changed.

After a long, quiet moment, Dromarch pulled his head back once more facing Rex as he asked "I assume you've considered what this means for the family? You've been awfully quiet these past few days."

Rex sighed. "I have, and it hasn't been easy. I mean, this should be a wonderful occasion. Our family has been given a chance to raise a child as parents after all this time. I should be thankful. But I can't help but feel afraid." He turned to Dromarch and continued. "The kid is likely to be scared one way or another by these changes. If she's just Pneuma reborn, she'll feel out of place. But if the boy is still in there, then they'll freak out from the changes alone, not to mention their abuse from those people would surely affect them for years, if not more."

"And... I'm not sure if we're ready for that kind of responsibility. We may be over 75 million years old, but none of us have the mindset for parenthood, it was never needed. That's what scares me. What if we forget to treat them gently? What if we end up hurting them more than before? Can we really say we deserve to be parents to a child like them?"

Rex looked down at his feet as he contemplated these questions himself. But before his mind went too far down the rabbit hole, Dromarch interjected.

"I believe you worry too much." he said, to Rex's mild surprise. Seeing he had the man's attention, Dromarch continued. "No matter what the child's condition, you and the others are more than capable of being good parents for them. I suspect you are just experiencing the normal feelings of a new parent towards their first child. There is nothing wrong with that."

Rex looked at his old friend and sighed. "I guess you're right. It's just been so stressful these past few days." He then grew a small smile. "Thanks Dromarch, I really needed that."

"My pleasure. After all, one of us has to keep our head screwed on tight in times like this." A light chuckle was shared between the two, before Dromarch turned to leave. "We should send for the others soon. It would be wise for them to know about this development, lest they come to… less than positive reactions."

After hearing this, Rex closed his eyes, considering the idea. After a few moments, he looked back to Dromarch. "Can you make arrangements for tonight?"

"Absolutely, master Rex." And with that, Dromarch rushed off.

Rex sighed once more, now in a better mood than before. He turned to look at the child in the room, who was now lying on their back, a peaceful look on their face. As Rex watched, he felt deep within his heart that this was indeed a blessing, one that he and his family would cherish.

"May the Architect bless you; bless us all." he said to the child before closing the door with a soft click, and heading off to prepare for the evening.

All without knowing that the child had begun to stir.

* * *

As Harry roused from his deep and strangely pleasant sleep, he immediately knew that something was off.

He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so soundly in all his life. His relatives weren't exactly the quietest people, even when sleeping. And he was never allowed to wake up slowly either, he was always jolted awake by something the Dursleys did, directly or not.

He also wasn't used to being so ...comfortable. He had yet to open his eyes, and his other senses were still very dull, but he could still tell that whatever he was sleeping in was far better than his normal tiny mattress and sheet.

As he became more lucid, the feeling of strangeness grew stronger. At the same time, the haze in his head became clearer as well, and he slowly began to recall what had happened. He had been in pain, then something came and made the pain go awa—.

His eyes snapped open and he bolted upright, his hands clutching his chest. He felt so wrong, but at the same time so right. He was used to having some sort of lingering ache or throbbing pain Almost as far back as he could remember. But now, there was no discomfort in any way.

What had happened? What had he done wrong… or right?

Slowly, the memories of his last waking moments replayed in his mind. His punishment from his family; the two pretty women, Pyra and Mythra he recalled, charging in and rescuing him; him being taken to see the kitty lady Nia to be healed.

Then nothing.

Eventually, he calmed down, and started looking around the room he was in. It was fairly spacious, with a nightstand with a lamp on top on his left, a dresser on the opposite side of the room as the bed he was in, and a large mirror besides the dresser, all having strange, open angular designs, and mostly in silver with accents of a stunning emerald green. The walls and ceiling were all light grey. To his left was a large window with full silver drapes, casting the room in a faint glow, and on the wall to his right was a simple wooden door. All in all, the room seemed a bit empty. Still, it was a far cry better than his cupboard, or anywhere at his relative's place for that matter.

At this point, Harry felt completely awake, his curiosity growing ever so slowly as he looked around the room. But before he could go and explore, the fearful part of his mind kicked in. It was a bad thing to be curious. The Dursleys never tolerated any signs of curiosity from him, and would yell at him if he did so much as have a hint of a question. But his curiosity wasn't quieted so easily. He wasn't at the Dursleys' place anymore, or at least he thought he wasn't. It was probably ok if he explored a little.

With that thought in mind, Harry slowly got out of the bed, not noticing the lack of the feeling of the blanket across his skin, or of his feet touching the ground. Looking back to the bed, he noted the strange pictures carved into the headboard. In the center was a large tree, with weirdly shaped creatures walking towards it. However strange it was, it looked quite nice.

Turning towards the nightstand, he took a good look at the lamp, and became a little confused. He could tell it was supposed to be a lamp, but It didn't have any sort of lever or button to turn it on, nor did it have a light bulb, just a more open area of framing under the lampshade. How in the world did it work?

Saving the question for later, he moved over to the window and peeked through the drapes. For a long moment, he was absolutely captivated. The night sky was filled with so many stars, there was more light than dark, and showed Harry colors and shapes he couldn't have dreamed of seeing, yet there they were. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Eventually, he turned away. There was still more to see in the room.

The dresser, unfortunately, wasn't nearly as spectacular as the window view, but that was to be expected. It kept the strange design as the rest of the furniture, just with a lot more green. When he looked closer, he was surprised that he was able to see into the drawers. There didn't seem to be anything in them as far as he could tell, but he liked the idea nonetheless.

His sense of exploration came to a sudden halt when he heard a light padding from outside the room. It quickly faded away, but that was all it took for Harry to freeze in place, fear nearly consuming him. What was that noise? It seemed somewhat familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had heard it before. He turned towards the door, half-expecting the sound to return, and bring whatever made it into the room. When that didn't happen, he regained his courage enough to make his way to the door. But as he passed by the mirror, he noticed a strange light glinting off it's surface, causing him to face right into the mirror and see…

Harry stood silently as he gazed at the image in the mirror's surface, his mind working overtime to comprehend the view his eyes were taking in. It couldn't be real, right? There was no way that what he was seeing was the truth. It had to be some sort of illusion...right? Maybe a trick of the light? He tried to deny what he saw, but the longer he looked, the more unsure he became. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew in through the windows, separating the drapes for just a moment, letting the light of night illuminate the room even brighter than before.

It was all Harry needed to see his reflection clearly.

In the moment of light, the figure of a little girl was clear as day in the reflection of the mirror, albeit somewhat hidden by the outlandish clothes she wore. With silver armor, black under armor, and emerald green glass accents, the figure fit in perfectly with the room she was in. The only color out of place was the solid gold on the top of her high heeled feet, which looked weird on the reflection's 5 year old frame. Granted, the entire outfit was the same way. The shoes, no, boots, extended to her knees. From there, the outsides of her thighs still had some armor, but the rest was only covered in a tight black suit, which seemingly covered the rest of her body, with more armor on her hips, torso, and shoulders. The figure's head was round, yet lean, with a natural beauty that reminded Harry of the red and white ladies. Atop the figure's head was an absurd amount of silky, emerald green hair, tied into a long ponytail, with just enough hair to frame her face. A little tiara sat atop her head, seemingly keeping the hair in place.

But two things stuck out to Harry more than anything else. Firstly, the eyes of the figure were the exact shade of green as his own eyes, blending in almost perfectly with the rest of the outfit, as well as the room as a whole. And secondly, nestled right between his collarbones was an emerald cross-shaped crystal, which Harry swore was identical to the ones that his two rescuers had, right down to the placement.

The light faded as quickly as it came, but Harry continued to stare at the image in the mirror as more and more questions poured into his brain. Slowly, he moved to feel himself, just to make sure this was, in fact, real, even as the reflection copied his movement. He traced his fingers across the armor, feeling every edge, every crease, until finally reaching the crystal on his chest. Only then did he look down at himself, destroying any last doubts on what had happened to him.

He had transformed into a girl, one who bore almost no resemblance to his former self.

He looked back up to meet the gaze of his reflection, his heartbeat racing as he started to hyperventilate. His confusion and fear started building rapidly, becoming too much to handle. Fire and lightning started flickering around him, with water and ice appearing as well. A strong breeze kicked up, picking up dust as it circled him. The shadows became darker, the lights became brighter, and the crystal on his chest began glowing as it collected the energy around him. He grasped at the crystal with his hands, and before he could stop himself, he screamed, releasing a wave of energy, causing a shock wave to rattle the house, and shattering the mirror to pieces.

Once Harry's head cleared, he froze in fear at what he had done. He was surely going to be punished for this, the mirror looked expensive, and there was no way that nobody heard him scream. As he panicked, he barely registered the loud footfalls rushing towards the room. But when the door slammed open, he instinctively curled in on himself in fear. After a few moments of silence, Harry dared to peek at the person who entered the room. What he saw made him slightly confused.

At first glance, the person leaning against the open door had a large silhouette, but as Harry's eyes adjusted to the light that had flooded the room, he saw that the man was actually wearing a large, puffy looking blue suit with a myriad of belts; clasps; and plates all across it.. The man himself actually seemed quite lean, but not weak at all. He also seemed a little pale from what little skin Harry could see. The man's head was covered in short, wavy brown hair, with a thin beard stretching across the man's face, but what confused Harry the most was the man's expression. Instead of overwhelming rage, the man had an expression Harry could only describe as pure concern, not for the mirror, but for him.

The two stared at each other for a long time, each trying to decide what to do next. Eventually, the man straightened his posture a bit, before slowly kneeling down to Harry's level, neither taking their eyes off each other. Finally, in the softest voice Harry had ever heard from a man, he said "It's ok, you're safe "

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thank you all who have favorited this story. It truly helps me write these chapters. I hope you all have a wonderful March.**

 **-Beatdown**


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